


Finally

by TheGoblinJester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, grace!cure, s10 au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:25:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4084876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoblinJester/pseuds/TheGoblinJester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not like he's TRYING to avoid Cas.<br/>Well, no. It's exactly like that.<br/>He's avoiding Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finally

It's not like he's _trying_ to avoid Cas.

Well, no. It's exactly like that.

He's avoiding Cas.

But it's not like he  _wants_ to be avoiding Cas. There's nothing he'd like better than to not have things be weird, and to hang out with his friend again like old times.

It's just that, well...

“Dude, I think you should go talk to him.” Sam said over a hefty tome of some ancient lore. Dean looked up, considering pretending that he had no idea what Sam was talking about. He waited too long, though, and the opportunity passed.

“Why?”

“Well, I mean, you kinda owe him a thank you, at the very least.” Sam replied carefully, eying Dean like he was a ticking bomb and Sam had to cut a specific wire to defuse him.. “And I think he thinks you're mad at him.”

“What, did he tell you that?”

Sam gave him a  _look._

“No. Why does it matter? And why have you been avoiding him?”

“Avoiding him? I dunno what you're talking about.” Dean lied with the ease of a lifetime of practice. “I'm just thinking that we both could use a little space right now, yeah? So he can get acclimated to being human again, or whatever.”

Sam gave him another  _look_ , but dropped the subject.

It came up again, of course, a few days later.

“Seriously, Dean.”

“Huh?”

“Go talk to Cas. You gonna make me nurse him back to health all by myself?” Sam asked impatiently, not looking up from his laptop. “He won't let me help change his bandages. Says he 'doesn't want to be a burden', and then manages to fuck simple bandaging up. And he's too polite to say anything about it, but I'm about ninety percent sure he hates the food I'm bringing him.”

“Gee, Sam, tell me how you really feel, why don't you?”

“Look, Dean.” Sam began in that exasperated-and-concerned way of his. He locked gazes with his brother. “The guy's one of my best friends, but he's your friend, too _._ He's literally said he likes you better, anyway. You two share a 'more profound bond,' remember? I don't understand why you're being so stubborn about this.”

“Well shit, I don't know, Sam. Maybe it's because _once again,_ this guy had to give up _all he's got_ just to save _my stupid ass_ from my own damn mess and I don't know I'm gonna be able to look him in the face after that.” Dean snapped. “Or maybe it's because the fact that he's human and injured and that's on me, Sam. Pretty much all the shit he's gone through is on me. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he hates me right now.”

“He doesn't hate you, Dean. And it's not like we _made_ him give up his grace.” Sam pointed out helpfully. “He chose to. We _could've_ tried Metatron's, but-”

“Wait, you have Metatron's grace?” Dean demanded.

Sam froze. He probably hadn't meant to say that.

“Yeah, but-”

“And you let Cas just _waste_ his on me?”

“It clearly wasn't a waste, Dean!”

“It _was_ if you had another option!” Dean slammed his hand down on the table. “Shit. Not that I want Meta-douche's grace in my veins, but this? After all Cas has done for us? Really, Sam?”

“Metatron's grace wouldn't have worked.” Sam said evenly. Damn him, how did he maintain his calm like this?

“Why the hell not?”

“Ask Cas.”

“ _Why?_ ”

Sam merely gave yet another  _look_ and returned to his computer.

Dean swore under his breath and stormed out of the room.

Well, if he was gonna have to have a  _talk_ with Cas, he was gonna do it properly.

Not too much later, he returned to the bunker with two hamburgers from a decent-looking joint nearby and faltering resolve in his heart. He pointedly ignored Sam as he passed through the library. Sam returned the favor.

It took Dean three tries to work up the nerve to knock at Cas's door, cursing himself each time.

Finally, with an internal mantra of “Come on, man, it's _Cas,_ ” he knocked.

“Come in.”

Dean let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and entered the room before he could persuade himself not to.

“Heya, Cas.”

Castiel, who was sitting up in bed(wearing fewer layers than usual, and looking unfairly attractive) and leafing through a rather hefty copy of The Silmarillion, looked up.

“Dean.” he acknowledged, eyes widening in what was probably surprise. “How are you doing?”

Dean scoffed at that. How was  _he_ doing? Coming from the bedridden guy with a hole in his abdomen?

“Who cares?” replied Dean, walking over and pulling up a chair to sit next to the bed. Castiel quirked his head to the side and looked Dean over cautiously, as if that had been a trick question he didn't quite understand.

“I do.”

Dean pretended like that really didn't tug at the ol' heartstrings, and instead offered Cas a burger.

“Thank you.” Castiel said with a small smile, unfolding the wrapper with his usual level of care. He picked up the burger and took a big bite, looking like he was enjoying it immensely. “I don't think Sam has quite grasped the concept of 'comfort food.'”

“I don't believe it. It's probably all just an act to get people to feel bad about not eating healthy. A total conspiracy.” Dean said, digging into his own burger. “He was a college student once, and no one can convince me he didn't live off ramen and pizza just like the rest of them.”

Castiel gave an actual smile at this, even if he most likely didn't understand the correlation between college students and instant ramen.

“What brings you here?” Castiel asked after a few moments, and Dean realized that this meant that Castiel expected him to have a _motive_ for hanging out with him, and dang if that didn't add another little shard of guilt to the mix.

“Well, for one thing, I gotta teach you how to use bandages properly.” Dean said, admiring Castiel's valiant effort at what looked like an attempt at mummification.

“Really, Dean.” Castiel said, staring Dean down with a no-nonsense kind of look. He was annoyingly perceptive. “What's wrong?”

Dean considered him for a moment, considered this former angel who was apparently stupid enough to sacrifice everything he was just for Dean of all people.

“Why your grace?” Dean asked, finally. “Why not Metatron's?”

Castiel's lips thinned, and he looked down.

“I was afraid you'd ask that.”

When Dean gave him a questioning look, Castiel sighed and reached over towards the bedside table. This brought him closer to Dean than he'd been in a couple years, and even though he smelled like blood and musty sheets, Dean had to move away to keep himself from doing something stupid.

From the midst of a small stack of books, Castiel produced a piece of parchment. It was folded twice and looked a little worse for the wear. It was the kind of thing you'd expect to have a map of Hogwarts scrawled on, or something like that. After a moment's hesitation, Castiel handed it to Dean.

“It's the ingredients list for the spell.” Castiel explained. “The one that removed the mark.”

Dean unfolded it and smoothed it out. The list was inscribed in a rather loopy scrawl(Rowena's handwriting was just as enigmatic as she was), and it took a moment to understand what was written there amidst the scratched-out words and the corrections.

A lot of it he glazed over, until something caught his eye.

_The grace of an angel who is in love with the cursed human._

 

“Oh.” Dean said.

“And while I have no way of knowing for sure, I am fairly confident that Metatron harbors no such feelings towards you.” Castiel said, in a lame attempt at humor.

“I hope not.” Dean replied, mind reeling.

“I... didn't want you to find out this way. Or at all, ideally.” Castiel said with a sort of dry laugh. “Please know that I do not expect anything from you regarding this, and I understand if it makes you uncomfortable. You don't have to-”

Dean cut Castiel off by way of a full-on kiss. On the mouth.

He tried his best to make sure that Castiel understood what the kiss meant; everything Dean couldn't say yet, emotions pent up for years, absolute adoration, the whole shebang. All this packed into a warm, tender, disgustingly  _loving_ kiss.

It must have worked, because when he pulled away, Cas had to take a moment to catch his breath.

“... Oh.” he said.

Another kiss, this one with both parties fully on board the make-out train. Castiel steadied himself by grabbing Dean's shoulder, kissing him like he'd been wanting to do this for years now. Dean moved closer and held Cas tight, reveling in the fact that this was  _Cas_ and this was Cas  _kissing him._

Holy fuck.

When they pulled away, Dean rested his forehead against Castiel's in the most cliché rom-com way possible, because why the fuck not? They were both a little breathless and a little flushed, smiling like idiots at each other.

Dean, deciding it was hard to get much cheesier than this, went in for a hug, burying his face in the former angel's shoulder and exhaling a hefty sigh.

“Jeez, Cas...” he laughed softly. “Is this worth it?”

“Hm?” Castiel replied absently, burger forgotten on the nightstand.

“Me.” Dean corrected. “Am _I_ worth it? Your grace? I mean, you only just got it back, and all...”

“Are you worth it?” Castiel repeated, tone laced with amusement. “Ask me that every time I fall for you, in every sense of the word. The answer will always be yes.”

“... fuck.” Dean muttered, turning his head to press a kiss to Castiel's cheek.

“Maybe later.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a habit of silly little romantic one-shots once in a blue moon.


End file.
